Page 136 of The Love Playbook

“I have no clue. We got here right as the game was starting and there was no sign of him. Wherever he went, he was already gone.”

“Unless he never showed at all,” Liz says.

I exhale, sinking at the news as I stare numbly out at the football field. “I had this idea of finishing the playbook and making this grand gesture, but I guess I got ready for nothing.” Because he’s not here, and now he’ll probably go another week avoiding me. “It was a dumb idea anyway,” I say, with a shake of the head.

“No, it wasn’t,” Brynn says.

“I think it’s brilliant,” Liz chimes in.

“Thanks, guys.” I inhale, putting on a brave face.

No point in getting upset when all I did was dress for him and make a sign. It’s not like I picked out a ring and planned some grand proposal.

Moisture stings the back of my eyes, and I curse myself for getting so emotional. I never cry, and yet I’ve cried enough tears this week to last a lifetime.

Get a grip, Charlotte.

Focusing back on the football field, I try to watch the rest of the game, so as not to worry the girls. The last thing I want to do is bring the mood down but it’s hard to concentrate when my mind is buzzing with all the things I want to say to the man who seems intent on avoiding me.

When there’s only a few minutes left in the game, I make an excuse about wanting to beat the crowd out of the stadium and head back to the dormitories. I take the long route around campus, walking the winding paths between lecture halls andpausing to stare at the massive water fountain in the courtyard before finally heading to Hyde Hall.

I push through the doors, saying hello to the resident counselor manning the desk as I turn down the girls’ wing and pass through the lobby, when I halt in my tracks.

There, sitting against my door is a lone figure, head back, eyes closed like he’s been there a while. “Chris?” My voice is a quiet rasp, a complete juxtaposition to the thrashing of my heart inside my chest.

His head lifts, his ice-blue gaze rounding as it slides over me. First to the jersey and the number on my face, then to the sign in my hands. A broad smile stretches over his face, one I’ve thought about countless times in the last five days. “I guess I don’t need to ask where you were,” he says, pushing off the ground and getting to his feet. “How ironic that you go to the game in search of me, and I skip it in search of you. Nice outfit, by the way. And the sign?” He shakes his head as he closes in on me. “So fucking cute.”

My forehead creases, pondering everything he just said while my heart leaps inside my chest. “I don’t understand. What happened? Why weren’t you there?”

“Let’s just say I barfed all over Coach Greene’s shoes, and he was so disgusted he told me to get my ass the fuck away from him.”

My mouth drops and my hands flutter over him. “What? Are you okay?” I press the back of my hand over his forehead to check for a fever. “Are you sick? Is it food poisoning?”

“I’m fine.” He grabs my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “Just anxious because I had no idea where the hell you were. I guess I should’ve figured there might be a chance you’d change your mind and go to the game, but when I tried calling you and got no answer, I didn’t know what to think.”

I gasp, then reach down, patting my pockets. “I was in such a hurry to get out of here, I must’ve forgotten my phone.” It’s just my luck he’d be here looking for me the one time I’m gone when I’ve been dying to see him all week. Now that he’s here and I’m staring up into his eyes I feel like I have a million and one things to say and no idea how to say them. “I found your playbook,” I blurt.

Chris shoves a hand through his hair with a little laugh. “Uh, yeah. About that . . . Sorry?” He winces, and I realize he thinks I’m mad.

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I was devastated when you broke up with me.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He raises his hands, a crease between his brows. “When did I break up with you?”

“At my mother’s,” I say, unsure of why he’s acting like this is news. “You were mad at me, understandably so, and you said youcan’t do this.”

His face falls. “I was upset and needed to cool off, but Lettie, I never broke up with you. I would never . . .” He curses under his breath. “I can’t believe you’ve been thinking that this whole time.”

“But if you didn’t break up with me, then why did you go MIA? Why didn’t you answer any of my calls or?”

The words die in my throat when he reaches out and cups my face in his hands. “I’m sorry I went silent on you. It was never my intention. Shit, Lettie, had I thought you assumed the worst, I wouldn’t have done it this way, but I was trying to work some things out. I wanted to surprise you. Did you know I went back to see you at your mother’s the morning after our argument?”

Hope soars in my chest. “You did?”

“Yeah, I did.”